


Hands All Over

by Pixiepeekboo



Category: IT, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, IT fanfic, Smut, it smut, pennywise x reader smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiepeekboo/pseuds/Pixiepeekboo
Summary: Pennywise X Reader are reunited after being separated a week.
Relationships: Pennywise x Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Hands All Over

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So, recently, I've been gobbling a lot of Pennywise x Reader fanfic. And let me tell you, there are some pure gold ones out there. Unfortunately, like all good things, there is also just not enough. Hence, this little creation. Don't know if anyone else is still as hardcore obsessed with Pennywise as I am (monster fucker that I am, what else can I say?) but here you go. Hope you like it!

“Find a penny,” you said, wrapping your arms around your alien boyfriend. The two of you stood on his front porch in the pinky late afternoon light. “And pick it up.” You hefted him into the air, grunting as he slowly relaxed and lightened his weight. 

He giggled. 

“Did you miss me?” you asked.

You knew you’d missed him. It had only been a week since you’d left to go visit the new college dorm where you’d be staying this fall. The thought of being separated from him longer than that was physically painful – as though the more distance there was between you, the deeper the blade of isolation stabbed you in the heart.

Pennywise made himself heavier, until you could no longer hold him. You huffed, stumbling backward into the front door. With a gleeful sound, he leaped at you and pinned you in place, arms dragged up above your head, so high you had to stand on tiptoe.

“Yes,” he said, his voice deepening slightly. He pressed harder against you, until the entire length of his body – all impressive six foot five of it – was flattened against yours. A pleasant tingle flared through your stomach. You squeaked and jumped forward, trying to land a kiss on his mouth. He had the cutest lips you’d ever seen. Before you met Pennywise, it wouldn’t have occurred to you that lips could be cute, but his were. 

When he was in clown face – his favorite, ninety-percent of the time – his lips were scarlet and gleaming, the corners of his mouth lifting in sharp lines that spliced through his eyes and continued up his forehead.

Now, however, he was in his other favorite disguise: Robert Gray, who could be mistaken for an ordinary man. Tall and gorgeous, with floppy, dark blonde hair, he looked unobtainable and disinterested about everything except you. It thrilled you to your core when he looked at you, his eyes brightened from periwinkle blue to searing, vivid amber.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, echoing your question. 

You smirked and lurched toward him again, hungry for his kiss. He evaded your hunting lips, though the satisfaction that hummed through him was nearly as pleasing as the actual feel of his mouth would have been. The sound grated down his body, pleasantly throbbing wherever your bodies touched. You shivered and your hips ground against his, relishing the jut of his hipbones and the evidence of how equally hungry he was for you. Sexually. The corner of your mouth curled at the thought. Not hungry as in he wanted to literally eat you, the way he did to the other juveniles in Derry.

“Let me show you,” you suggested, “how much I missed you.”

He tipped his head back, giggling again. Seizing the opportunity, you caught your mouth against his Adam’s apple. It bobbed under your lips as he swallowed, his hands tightening around yours where he had them hiked against the door. His body started leaning away from you, trying to conceal how he was getting excited for you.

“Get back here,” you said, curling a leg around his hip and trapping him closer, as you dragged your mouth down his neck to his clavicle, and licked the dip there.

He hissed, slamming his body back against yours, his arms dropping from where he’d had you pinned. He grabbed at you greedily, his massive hands spanning your back, rounding over your hip and ass to pick you up against him. He bent his head to seize your mouth in a kiss.

It had only been a week, but stars, you’d forgotten how delicious it was to be with him like this: frantic and desperate and needy – hands dragging through his silky hair, tugging on his ears, (freakishly cute little ears; you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hoisted yourself higher to bite his earlobe) diving beneath his shirt to touch the expanse of his spine, and then brought them back around to his chest and walked your fingers in a sensual line down his abs to the waistline of his pants.

You wanted him. Right now. This instant. Needed him as much as you needed the air in your lungs and the blood in your veins and the other various organs in your body. You just needed him.

You reluctantly removed one hand from where you’d been tracing your fingers along the edge of his V and reached behind you for the doorknob.

“Penny,” you said. You barely managed to say his name: he kissed you harder, deeper, tilting his head. Finally, you found the doorknob and pushed the door open. 

Pennywise started to follow you inside, then twisted the two of you, shoving you against the doorfame. He grabbed your hands in his and bent to nip your wrist, then he dropped to his knees and licked across the stripe of your stomach where it was exposed between the end of your shirt and the beginning of your shorts. The sensation of his tongue turned you liquid and you released a feral sound. Pennywise grinned up at you before grabbing your hips and biting your hipbone.

You thrust your hips toward his face, aching for him. “Penny,” you pleaded, breathlessly.

He unbuttoned your shorts and you tackled him to the floor inside his house. He kicked the door closed behind the two of you.

“Why don’t you just stay with me and do your courses from Derry?” he asked, continuing the previous conversation. You didn’t feel like talking anymore. Unless it meant he was going to talk between your legs. It was, of course, something the two of you had already discussed: you were leaving for your junior year of college in the fall. You’d managed to go without him last year, and the year before that. Surely you could survive this year.

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Make me,” you said, sticking out your tongue at him.

His eyes flashed and he dove at you, kissing across your face. His hands slowly slipped back down to your shorts. You lifted your hips to help him work them off and down your legs. Once they were over your ankles, he tossed them over his shoulder. That momentary distraction was all you needed to rise up against him, knocking him onto his back. You straddled him and shimmied down his body until you could feel how hard he was. He groaned, arching his back off the floor. One of his hands rose to cradle your face. You turned toward his palm and sucked on his thumb.

His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. A purr vibrated in his throat and he canted his hips against you. Slowly, you removed his thumb from your mouth and guided his hand down between your legs, past the hem of your underwear, until you brought him exactly where you wanted him. Pennywise rocked forward and sank his teeth in your neck – not to hurt you, but to keep you in place. His thumb pushed up into you and you could have screamed at how insanely good he felt. You rolled your hips and he worked his fingers along your seam.


End file.
